It was just another passion play
Three acts of incredible story telling
Examining the minutes of the every day
Dissecting the seconds in most anyway imaginable
Act #1Like waves crashing on a rocky shore
The narrative hit the consciousness barely moved
As the story unfolds, layers of stuff peeled away grain by grain
The unaware sat scrambling to keep themselves
From being washed away
The story was trite and common
One of love and pardon and faithful surrender
Wrapped in words cold and warm
Young and old, each story their own
No one complained and yet so few
Knew the story themselves
Resisting the tendency to rewrite and redo
Struggling forward, Act one left only lovers on the stage
In this the first passion play
The crow went wild, striving to never forget
Bound in wonder silently
And they all clapped when the curtain fell
Not realizing it was part of the play
The falling curtain takes it all away
Act #2Act two begins in a forlorn place
A desert void of life and anything
Except the continuous change of shapes and forms
Brought about by fickle winds with mindless abandon
An endless landscape dry and empty
Even the sand dunes, good for neither substance nor thirst
Become works of art and scenes of chaos
Begging all to see what they will
Mirage or illusion, mere thoughts to hold onto
Scattered here or there
Bits sparkle, iridescent jewels, A thousand points of light
Only to disappear a moment later all moved
Like some river meandering through the emptiness
Plowing through space and time
Depositing crystal moments to shine one time
As the curtain falls on act two
The crowd is silent
Disturbed by the awesome feeling of emptiness and being alone
Eternity is a very long time

Act #3The curtain rises a final time
A lush and verdant setting
Pastoral wonder
Filled with lovers glory
Dreams laid side by side
Rushing water filling vast caverns with cool refresh
Even the sky with gentle travelers gliding by so alive
Not a work is spoken, yet stories everywhere
The sounds of laughter and whirling dancers
Fill the air with sweet beauty
Off in the distance
A flower of heavenís delight comes into view
More beautiful than a thousand sunsets
More precious than a childís smile
In horror we watch as the serpent
Encircles and chokes it there
All in a days work, a passion play
As the curtain falls a final time
We are left to wonder why such a crime
Could be allowed
Gathering our senses
We head to the exits, feeling a bit cheated by this passion play
Behind the curtains
The serpent long gone
The flower, crumpled and broken
Just like every other passion play
Its not what it seems
And then the crew cleaned the stage
Preparing for the next show
The Harrowing of Hell
There is a flower to re-claim